We All Fall Down
by girlinshipwreck
Summary: The world has ended and Bethany can't afford to look back anymore, only forwards, forcing herself to forget Hal Mason. After a devastating Skitter attack, Bethany and her group seek shelter with the 7th Mass, but trust becomes betrayal as the battle for survival becomes even more bitter, only for her path to cross with Hal's once again... {Sanctuary Part 1 onwards, AU}.
1. We Never Are

**Author's Note: **This story features Tom and my original character Vivien, but this piece is primarily Hal/Bethany centric.

* * *

**We Never Are**

_There's no peace_  
_Only war_  
_Victory decides who's wrong or right_  
_It will not cease_  
_Only grow..._

Will rolled onto his back, Anna murmuring in protest as his arm slipped from her waist, before sliding uneasily back into sleep. He glanced down at her, jaw tightening at the sight of the shadows flickering over the hollows of her thin face. There was never enough food to go round, and when the baby arrived, it would be another mouth to feed. In the halcyon days before the war and after their reunion, they'd talked about maybe trying for another baby, never really taking it seriously. But then it had happened, and here they were, living hand to mouth, on the run, never knowing if each day would be their last.

He sat up, pushing his long greying black hair out of his eyes, gaze drifting over the rest of his group. All were accounted for, all united in their goal to find sanctuary. After finding the recruitment poster for the 2nd Massachusetts, the group had been trying to locate the resistance movement for the past month, only to no avail. They'd either gone to ground or had disbanded. But still the group pressed on, chasing ghosts, pinning all their hopes on a faded old poster.

Will got to his feet, stomach clenching painfully. He'd given his portion of dinner to his wife, the second night he'd gone without anything to eat. He thought about going out and seeing if he could scare up some squirrel or raccoon, but ammunition was low and couldn't be wasted on the local wildlife. But soon they would have to start choosing between empty stomachs and empty guns, not with the way their supplies were running low.

He crept past Abigail and Ellie, Ellie's head resting on her older sister's shoulder, their fair hair mingling. His oldest daughter was on night sentry duty with Phil, something he intensely disliked her doing. Women had no place in doing a man's work, especially when there were men to do it. The women cooked and watched over the children, as well as doing other menial tasks such as sewing or disposing of general waste. The girls aided them, the boys going out with the men to find food and defend the camp.

This was the way Will thought things should be done, and the others had accepted his decree. But Bethany had classed it as bullshit, wasting no time in proving her point. Back in the beginning, behind her father's back, she'd bullied one of the older men into teaching her how to handle his rifle until she was proficient enough to earn one of her own. She'd started skipping her chores, going on runs with the men instead, her father objecting until she took down a Skitter in front of them all. After that, Bethany bailed on the babysitting and cooking completely. She could hold her own with the men, and she had their respect, even if she didn't have her father's.

* * *

"You should go an' get some shut-eye, girl," Phil said, tugging his trucker cap over his ears. "Get Dixon out here instead. He won't mind, his wife's snorin' keeps him awake anyhows."

"I can't sleep," Bethany muttered, leaning her head against the wall.

"Who can?" Sam said lazily, his gaze travelling down the length of her, the sight of her long legs in their denim shorts making his breath catch in his throat slightly.

Bethany caught the glance and smiled provocatively, making Sam straighten up, the corner of his lips crooking. Then she turned her head away, pretending to pull a loose thread out of the sleeve of her checked shirt. Sam just shook his head to himself, his grin growing wider. They'd been playing this game for weeks now, Bethany taking two steps forwards and five steps back. For all her bad girl act, he knew she wasn't as worldly as she made herself out to be. There were walls around Bethany, walls he wasn't going to climb. She could come to him, he wasn't running after her.

Phil pretended not to see what was going on, turning his back on the two. Sam was always wanting something, and now he wanted Will O'Hara's oldest girl. He'd already had his way with Bob's niece, and now she was three months gone with Sam's kid, a situation that was setting everyone on edge due to Sam's reluctance to do the decent thing and stand by the girl. Now he was here, playing his games with Bethany and hounding the hell out of Phil. The bastard wasn't even on sentry duty either, doing his usual cut and run when it came to contributing to the group.

But even though Phil thought Sam was a piece of shit, he wasn't getting involved. He was fond of Bethany, she was a nice enough kid once you got past the attitude, but he had his own daughters to worry about. Between starving and the Skitters, Phil had enough on his plate to deal with. As long as Sam wasn't sniffing around his girls, he didn't really give a damn; somebody else could sort the little scumbag out.

"Got any smokes?" Bethany asked Sam, glancing at the doorway just in case her dad came through it. He hated her habit, but she needed the nicotine hit to get her through the long days and nights. It soothed her nerves and steadied her shaking hands. Alcohol was a crutch no one could afford to lean on. You needed a clear head in this world, and a drunken stupor could lead to your death. Cigarettes had been one of the things overlooked by the Skitters, and Bethany considered this an advantage over the enemy, lighting up a petty act of rebellion tantamount to sticking two fingers up at the falling skies.

"Might be some down in reception," Sam said, pushing the hair out of his eyes. "Y'know, an illegal cache," he added, waggling his eyebrows like a pantomime villain.

Bethany laughed, tossing her head back, Sam studying the curve of her swanlike neck with secret appreciation. She wasn't pretty, but she had something that set her apart, a spark, something in those green eyes of hers daring him to more dangerous heights. The fact she was the daughter of their leader only made Sam even more determined to conquer her. Will O'Hara had always got on Sam's last nerve, Will's way of acting the hero and treating his beautiful wife as though she was made of bone china, his daughters even more so, irritating the hell out of him. Corrupting Bethany would be his way of giving Will his comeuppance.

"Wanna get some?" Bethany said, getting to her feet, not even giving him a chance to answer, already knowing it.

"Sure, sugar," Sam drawled, getting up.

"Don't call me sugar," Bethany snapped, startling him.

"Sorry," Sam said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Bethany just nodded, before turning on her heel and stalking off, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

* * *

The click of Bethany's cowboy boots echoed through the darkness, the light of her torch flickering in fits and starts. As she made her way over to the reception desk, it went out completely, plunging them into pitch blackness. Cursing, she slammed its side with her hand, before switching it on and off a few times, but the battery was dead, and there was none left to replace it. Completely losing her head, she turned and booted the desk, only for Sam to grab her elbow, making her whirl around, light suddenly striking her eyes.

"Hey," he whispered, his face inches from hers, "it's alright, I've got it covered."

Bethany swallowed hard, her heart speeding up in her chest. She knew Sam was a shit, but she still liked him. She liked him a lot, his swagger, the way his eyes narrowed. He was a man, not a stupid boy. She might have been seventeen, but sometimes she felt like seventy. But when she was with him, it was like she was finally finding her feet. Even if he wasn't Hal -

"What the hell's going on here?" Will bellowed, making Bethany start violently.

"Nothin's goin' on, Hawk-eye," Sam said coolly as Will strode over to them, his face like thunder.

Will's jaw tightened at Sam's use of his nick-name. He bore more than a passing resemblance to Daniel Day-Lewis, and everyone had started calling him Hawk-Eye, the nick-name becoming an in-joke in the group, a way to lighten the tension. But Sam had never taken part in the joke, merely sneering instead. Yet here he was, addressing Will as though he was his ally after all. Will just shook his head in derision, his green gaze burning into Sam, forcing the younger man to look away.

"Thought you were keeping watch?" Will asked Bethany, his voice dangerous.

"Phil's covering me," Bethany said sullenly, tossing her black braid back.

"And who will cover Phil if he falls asleep?" Will snapped. "You? I don't think so."

"There's nothin' out there, man," Sam said, feigning a yawn. "The Skitters have already swept through the area."

"It doesn't mean we're safe," Will said from between gritted teeth. "We never are" -

_\- "SKITTERS!"_


	2. The Outsider

**The Outsider**

_Before _

Bethany stood on the steps of Bay High, watching as Hal Mason said good-bye to his father and little brother, his other brother striding past her, oblivious to her sister's searching glance, a depressingly thick book tucked under his arm. Bethany and her family had moved to Somerville a month back, she and her sister transferring from their private school to Bay High instead, both still finding it hard to adjust to the change.

"I think I love Ben Mason," Abigail whispered, watching him disappear through the double doors.

"I think you don't," Bethany said, rolling her eyes. Ben and Abigail shared roll-call, but he was immune to the long looks Abigail was so good at giving, preferring to bury his head in the pages of a book instead. Ben was a math geek, a know it all, and Abigail with her long blonde hair and beautiful face, their mother in miniature, was a future prom queen in the making. Thanks to the cruel logic of high school, they would never be, not unless they were in some clichéd teen flick.

But it was through Abigail's obsession with Ben Mason, that Bethany had developed one of her own with the Mason family. She knew it was weird the way she watched them, but they just looked... happy. They looked happy together, happy at being with each other. And happiness wasn't something that existed in her own home, not with the way her parents were fighting every night. The move to Somerville was meant to be a fresh start, but it had just made things worse.

Hal's father scooped his small son up into his arms, Bethany watching him raise his hand in farewell to Hal as he headed towards the high school steps. Bethany liked Tom Mason despite having never spoken to him. He looked kind, the type of person one instantly trusted on sight. Despite Tom being plain and awkward, several girls in her English class had a crush on him, including their teacher, but her own regard for him wasn't so complicated. Something about him reminded her of her own father, and this was what drew her to him.

Against her will, it was Hal who was increasingly catching her eye, even if he acted like she didn't exist. He didn't mean anything by it; it was just the way things were. Everybody had a clique and stuck to it accordingly, and things were no different with Hal. He had his own coterie and he had Rita. Bethany had no-one, and consequently stuck to her own company.

Hal had a smile for everyone, Bethany included, but that was as far it went. He was friendly without actually being your friend. He'd walked past her several times on the sidewalk without looking at her twice, despite sitting across the aisle from her in English class every day. It was like she was a ghost, something he simply refused to acknowledge beyond a glance. And as he walked past her on the steps, now was no different.

_I look myself in the face_  
_And whisper "I'm in the wrong place"_  
_Is there more to lose than gain_  
_If I go on my own again?_

_All I know is I cannot pretend_  
_So I'm sitting on the outside again..._

* * *

"I like your bracelet," a voice said, making Bethany's head snap up, only to see Rita. She stood in front of Bethany's table, her tip tilted nose tilted even further as she studied Bethany's wrist with apparent admiration.

"It was my grandmother's," Bethany said slowly, tensing up.

"That's nice," Rita smiled.

Bethany forced herself to smile back, feeling uneasy. Rita was part of the popular crowd, queen to Hal's king. Bethany had been popular back at her old school, but things had been different there. She'd had status there, her differences celebrated instead of being sneered at. But the atmosphere had been bohemian and laidback, with more emphasis on students' emotional wellbeing than their grades. But at Bay High it was straitlaced and formal, and nobody really cared whether Bethany was happy or not as long as she wasn't slitting her wrists.

"I really like your style," Rita said, gesturing to Bethany's dark denim cut-offs and hot pink pleasant blouse. "It's like Woodstock meets Bel Air."

"Thanks," Bethany said, touching her black fish-tail braid with self conscious fingers.

"I heard your mother was on the cover of Vogue," Rita said, dropping her voice conspiratorially, her words making Bethany's heart sink. Here was the real reason behind Rita's friendliness, the same one that had been behind everyone's brief interest in Bethany when she first came to Bay High. But when they'd discovered her mother's modelling days were over, that she was nothing more than a housewife now, their interest had faded with their friendliness. Why it had taken Rita so long to bring the subject up, Bethany didn't know or really care.

"Yeah, she was a model," Bethany said curtly, making Rita's smile become more rigid. "But not anymore."

"It's just I was wanting to break into modelling," Rita said in a rush, "and I thought your mother might be able to help, you know, share a few tips" -

\- "Sorry, she can't," Bethany said abruptly. "She's too busy bringing up me and my sisters for much else."

Rita just nodded, her eyes cold above her smile. Then she turned and sashayed down the aisle, Bethany watching her go with narrowed eyes.

* * *

"Oh my God, don't look but Ben's over there," Abigail whispered, clutching Bethany's arm, her fingers biting into flesh.

Bethany rolled her eyes, putting down the latest Harry Potter she'd been flicking through. She should have known there was an ulterior motive to Abigail's sudden urge to hit the mall after school. She and her sister had never been close, but moving to Somerville had forced them to start spending more time together, both finding it hard to adjust to their status as social pariah.

What Bethany didn't realise was that if she was friendlier and persevered in breaking through people's barriers instead of building her own, she would have made friends in time. But her introspective attitude just made Bethany her own worst enemy, the chip on her shoulder merely making the situation even worse. Yet Bethany continued her crusade against the world regardless.

Abigail's problem was that she was too beautiful for her own good, and she relied on her looks as if they were currency, using them to trade her way through life. But at Bay High, this wasn't possible. Her beauty set her apart, and Abigail was at a loss over what to do about it. So she clung to her sister instead, insanely channelling all her energy into making Ben Mason like her, even as he ignored her.

"You do realise stalking is against the law?" Bethany pointed out, pretending to browse through a pile of Dan Browns.

"But he's so _hot!_" Abigail exclaimed, clutching Bethany's arm again. "I can't live without him!"

"Jeesh, you're only fifteen years old," Bethany snapped, pulling her arm free, "your life's just starting, Ben or no Ben."

"But it doesn't mean_ anything _if Ben's not a part of it," Abigail whined.

"Go and play with your Barbie dolls or something," Bethany said irritably, "and leave the poor boy alone."

Abigail just tossed her head back before stomping off towards the Nicholas Sparks section. Bethany watched her go before picking up the Harry Potter again. She'd already read it, but having it in her hands always brought back the same thrill she'd had when first holding it. Hoping Abigail wouldn't do anything crazy, she headed for the bookshelves, bypassing Ben browsing through the manga section, his eyes vague behind his spectacles. She didn't think Ben had discovered girls yet, that he'd probably discover the meaning of life and win the Nobel Peace Prize before anything else.

As she tucked the Harry Potter under her arm, not exactly sure what she was doing with it beyond clinging to it, she ran her fingers over the rows of books, mind drifting. Then a flash of dark grey great-coat caught her eye, making her glance up, only to see Tom Mason doing some stalking of his own. Mind suddenly clear, she angled herself behind a bookcase, watching as he watched somebody through the gap between the books and shelf. But the longer she watched, the more she realised he wasn't really perving, but more trying to make sense of something.

Frowning, she edged out of her hiding place, just as Tom straightened up, following him as he slipped out from between the bookshelves, heading towards a stack of children's classics instead. The young woman he'd been watching stood with her back half turned to him, her long jet hair falling across her face, obscuring it from sight. Tom gave up all pretence of browsing and just flat out stared at her, his brow furrowing, his dark eyes fearful. Bethany watched in fascination as the woman glanced at Tom, her gaze passing over him and settling on something in the distance instead. Then she was gone, Tom suddenly starting after her, only to collide with the display of books, knocking them all over the floor.

Bethany rushed forwards to help, several shop assistants materializing out of thin air at the same time, and between a flustered Tom and them all, they managed to restore the display to its former glory. As the shop assistants departed, Tom turned to Bethany, his forehead perspiring slightly, his large hands shaking. They just stared at each other, and then Bethany forced herself to smile, her tone jocular and jovial.

"You okay?" she asked, elbowing him in the side. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Tom just stared at her again before shaking his head, catching himself. "Sorry, do I know you?" he asked, brow furrowing even further.

"Like father like son," Bethany said before she could stop herself.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm in Hal's English class, but he doesn't know me either," Bethany said with a strained laugh.

"Oh, you're one of them, aren't you?" Tom said distractedly, running his hand across his face. "One of his admirers, I mean."

"I'm a fully paid up member of Hal's Harem," Bethany said in her jocular voice again, "guilty as charged."

Tom just looked at her incredulously.

"Seriously, are you alright?" Bethany then asked quietly, worried at the haunted expression in his eyes.

Tom stared at the spot where the woman had been standing, before shaking his head again. "I'm... I'm fine," he said, sounding dazed, "just fine."

Bethany just nodded slowly before side-stepping her escape, shoving the Harry Potter back onto an obliging shelf as she went.


	3. Out Of The Darkness

**Out Of The Darkness **

_See our world is slowly dying_  
_I'm not wasting no more time_  
_Don't think I could believe you..._

_Yeah when there'll just be silence_  
_And when life will be over_  
_Don't think you will forgive you..._

Bethany clamped her hand over Ellie's mouth as the Skitter stared unseeingly through the grubby window, Bethany praying the darkness would be enough to hide them. The Skitters had attacked the hotel a week ago, and had been pursuing them ever since. They'd lost Sarah and Dean Marshall during the battle, their three kids being taken by the Skitters, everyone else barely escaping with their lives. The night before last, Elsa and her sister had been taken, the memory of their screams making the tears spring to Bethany's eyes. And now here they were, hiding in a church basement, hardly daring to breathe.

Will stood at a half-crouch, his rifle raised, the sweat dripping down his spine. The other men stood in similar attitudes, the women clutching their children to their sides, the Dupont twins huddling together, having lost both parents back at the beginning. Anna grabbed Abigail's hand, her other supporting her bump. Her gaze crashed into Bethany's, grey on green, trying to convey courage to her daughter. Bethany had always been brave, but she had lost it during this last week, becoming a shadow of herself.

After the attack, Will had stripped Bethany of her rifle, stating she was no longer allowed to keep watch or go on runs. She had failed the group, bringing the Skitters down on them by not doing her duty. And Bethany had accepted his punishment, welcoming it even. She'd become arrogant in her ability, acting as if she could do whatever she wanted. But in defying her father and her family, she'd almost led them to their deaths, and she still could.

She stared up at the window, willing the Skitter with all her might to leave, to fade back into the darkness so they could breathe again. If it left, it would be a sign they would survive this, that they still had a chance of making it. Unbidden, she suddenly remembered the last time she'd seen Hal. It had been when the school was being evacuated, the pair of them divided by the throng of hysterical students and panicking teachers, Hal fighting to reach her through the crowd, his mother dragging him and his brother outside instead. She had never seen him again, her father taking them out of town that day, figuring it would be safer in the countryside than the suburbs.

The Skitter disappeared from sight, Bethany's shoulders slumping with relief, Ellie whimpering, the sound muffled by Bethany's hand still clamped over her mouth. Bethany's gaze met her mother's again, before locking with Abigail's, her sister's stare accusing and bitter. Bethany looked away, biting her lip. She knew Abigail blamed her for Elsa being taken. Elsa had been Abigail's best friend, the loss only serving to widen the chasm between the sisters.

"Stay here," Will whispered, looking round them all, "I'll go and check it's all clear."

But as he left, Bethany knew they would never be in the clear again, always on the run, always trying to stay one step ahead of the Skitters.

* * *

_Yeah, you never said a word_  
_You didn't send me no letter_  
_Don't think I could forgive you..._

_Yeah, our hands will get more wrinkled_  
_And our hair will be grey_  
_Don't think I could forgive you..._

Hal pretended to flick through a photo album, his gaze barely registering the blur of faces inside its pages. Nearby, the others were engaged in a game of Monopoly, Vivien sitting on Tom's lap as though it was a throne, Matt perched on the edge of the desk, conducting his finances from afar. They'd invited Hal to join the game, but he'd turned them down flat, not in the mood to play happy families. Vivien wasn't his mother, and pretending otherwise was an insult to his real one, as well as being completely absurd, Vivien only being three or so years older than him.

Hal abruptly got up from his seat, unable to bear it any longer. The way his dad had lost his head over Vivien made Hal's stomach turn. From the word go, his father had made a fool of himself over her, and things were no different now it was finally out in the open how he felt about her. But it didn't give Tom the right to try and force his sons into accepting her, even though it was Hal that had the problem with her, not Matt.

But as he made to put the photo-album back on the bookshelf, something slipped from its pages, landing on the floor at his feet. Frowning, he knelt down and picked the picture up, his heart slowing in his chest. The photo was of Bethany making rabbit ears with her fingers behind Ben's head, Ben looking less than impressed, Tom's foot just visible in the far corner. Hal slipped the photo back inside the album, his heart feeling like it had stopped completely.

"Hal, I need your help!" Tom boomed, startling him. "Matt's making me bankrupt!"

"Sorry, I'm heading out," Hal said, trying and failing to force a smile onto his face.

"Come on, Hal!" Matt whined. "Don't be such a spoil-sport!"

Hal watched his father whisper something in Vivien's ear, Vivien collapsing in a heap of uncharacteristic giggles, before burying her face in Tom's neck, his hand sliding up her thigh, Vivien slapping it away, giggling again. Hal nearly threw up there and then.

"Sorry small fry," Hal hastily said, "gotta go."

* * *

_And see the children are starving_  
_And their houses were destroyed_  
_Don't think they could forgive you_

_Hey, when seas will cover lands_  
_And when men will be no more_  
_Don't think you can forgive you..._

Bethany pressed her hand to her mother's forehead, her gaze unwillingly meeting Abigail's.

"How is she?" Abigail whispered. "Has her fever gone down?"

Bethany shook her head before getting to her feet. "I'll fetch some more water," she said, seizing the chance for some solitude, "it'll cool her down at least." Abigail just nodded, before resuming her watch over Anna, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Bethany headed into the kitchen, lowering her gaze to the ground as she passed her father and the other men, their conversation coming to a halt at the sight of her. She knew they were arguing again over what their next move should be, her father still obsessed with finding the 2nd Mass, the others now wanting to head for the mountains.

The Skitters had been picking them off one by one, killing and kidnapping. And what was left of their group was splitting into separate factions, weakening them even further. The night before, Phil had packed up his bags, taking his family and leaving. It had been Bethany who'd found his body by the side of the road, his head ripped from his shoulders, his daughters gone. Taking the Skitters' calling card at face value, the group had changed neighbourhoods, holing up in a house with parts of its roof missing, the rain making most of the rooms inhabitable, forcing them all to set up a cramped camp in the living room.

The dampness was affecting Bethany's mother, a common cold rapidly becoming something else, the strain of a difficult pregnancy weakening her even further. They needed a doctor but all they had was Bob, a horse vet, and he'd held his hands up hopelessly, saying he only dealt with horse flesh, not human. Bethany had almost punched him in the face for that, for refusing to help, but Abigail had grabbed her arm, restraining her. Caring for their mother had drawn the sisters back together, forcing Abigail to shelf her grief over Elsa.

Bethany crossed the soaking grass, wrapping her arms around herself as she headed for the pump. Winter was coming, setting their teeth on edge. Despite donning a pair of ripped tights under her denim shorts, and a faded corduroy jacket, the cold still found new ways to torture Bethany. She could seriously kill for a pair of gloves, having lost her own, but the mismatched pair her father had found had gone to her mother, a sacrifice Bethany willingly made. Biting her lip, she set the bucket under the pump, before beginning the arduous task of drawing the water. Once she was done, she bent down and picked up the bucket with both hands, struggling slightly to lift it.

"Nice view," somebody wolf-whistled, making her hastily straighten up.

"Fuck off, Sam," she snapped. After the hotel, she hadn't spoken two words to him, the swelling belly of Bob's niece only serving to further remind her she'd had a lucky escape from him

"Hey, I'm just tryin' to be friendly," he said, tugging on her black braid, making her jerk her head away.

"Your idea of being friendly is knocking up whoever gives you a second glance," Bethany spat, snatching up the bucket again.

"Me an' Sarah were never serious," Sam protested, following her. "I only have feelin's for you, Bethy."

"More like you just want to have a feel," Bethany retorted, stalking back into the kitchen, only to freeze at the sight of a stranger in military fatigues, her father and the other men gathered around him, faces almost reverent, Jessup and Craig looking sickeningly smug, Bethany vaguely recalling they were meant to be out on a food run.

"Hello," the stranger said slowly, his sweeping glance taking her in from black braid to cowboy boot toe.

"Who the hell are you?" Bethany snapped, setting the bucket down on the draining board.

"I'm Lieutenant Terry Clayton," the man said, "Commander of the 7th Mass at your service."


	4. Hidden Treasures

**Hidden Treasures**

_Before_

As Bethany and Abigail made their way home, both thinking of the Masons still back at the mall, a car drew up beside them.

"Hop in ladies," a voice said, making Bethany's head snap up, a vicious retort on the tip of her tongue, only to see with some relief it was just their father.

"Hey," she said tiredly, pulling the door open as Abigail slid into the back seat of their battered station-wagon.

"Hey yourself," Will O'Hara said, pushing his long hair out of his eyes. "Looking tired, girl."

"It's been a long day," she sighed, putting on her seatbelt, "especially with Abby's Ben-watching."

"What, as opposed to bird-watching?" Will parried, swinging the car round.

"I love him, Dad," Abigail said dreamily, "I'm doomed."

"More like Ben's doomed," Bethany muttered.

"Play nice," Will warned.

"Or what?" Bethany retorted. "You'll ground me?"

"I'll make you take a Ben-watching holiday," Will said, "and then you'll realise the true meaning of being doomed."

* * *

Bethany suppressed a yawn, before reaching for the remote control, only to freeze as Abigail halted her with her heavily manicured hand.

"Don't even think about it, Beth," Abigail warned, sounding uncannily like their father for a moment.

Bethany lowered her hand, Ellie who was leaning against her, stirring sleepily, thumb tucked into her mouth. Ellie was Abigail's miniature, and Abigail was their mother's, reminding Bethany of the Russian dolls her grandmother had liked to collect.

"It's a re-run," Bethany pointed out, exasperated.

"So?"

"So it means you've seen it before."

"It's my favourite episode."

"You hate _The Simpsons._"

Abigail just raised her plucked eyebrows. Then all three girls started violently as the sound of their mother's usually gentle voice screeched down the stairs, followed by the sound of heavy running feet, then the kitchen door slamming. Bethany and Abigail looked at each other, both getting to their own feet at the same time. As they made for the hall, it was just in time to see their mother throw herself at the kitchen door, hammering it with her fists.

"You _bastard!_" her mother screamed, tears rolling down her face. "You said you'd stopped seeing her!"

"I love her, Anna!"

"Be a man and say that to my face, inside of hiding in there like some spineless coward!"

The kitchen door opened, revealing their father, his own face bloodless.

"I love her," he said, oblivious to his audience out in the hall. "I thought moving here would cure me of her, but it hasn't."

"Oh drop the dramatics," Anna snapped, "we're not in one of your shitty pot-boilers" -

\- "My shitty pot-boilers pay the bills" -

\- "Just barely" -

\- "I provide for you and the girls" -

\- "Provide what?" Anna retorted. "We now live in a low-rent neighbourhood, with a wife-beater on one side and a drug-dealer on the other, and a car in the driveway that breaks down every two minutes. You can't even give your own daughters a decent education anymore, forcing them to attend that dump" -

\- "I'm doing my best" -

\- "You're doing your best!?" Anna laughed hysterically. "What about my best? I gave up my career for you. I had a baby I never wanted" -

\- "That's enough!" Bethany screamed, her green eyes bulging as she advanced on her parents. "That's enough!"

* * *

The doorbell rang, waking Bethany out of her stupor. Her father had been gone for hours now, probably checking himself into a motel somewhere, like the third-rate thriller writer he was. Her mother had locked herself in their bedroom, probably prettily crying herself to sleep. Bethany felt like knocking their heads together. They were her parents, they weren't meant to screw up, that was her job.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her mascara even further across her face, she blearily opened the door, expecting the take-out she'd thrown all financial caution to the wind and ordered, only to see Hal Mason. She did a double-take, Hal doing the same.

"What the hell happened to your face?" he asked bluntly, stunning her further.

"Why the hell are you on my doorstep?" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest, feeling like she was in a parallel universe.

"Your bracelet is why," Hal said even more bluntly, holding it out to her, "my dad found it back in the bookstore. Rita recognized it as yours, said it was your grandmother's or something, so my mom made me bring it round, thought it was important you got it back as soon as possible."

Bethany just stared at him again. "How do you know where I live?" she asked suspiciously.

"Your mom goes to the same pottery class as mine," Hal said, "I'm not stalking you."

"Wish you would."

Hal raised his eyebrows.

"It was a joke," she said, snatching the bracelet out of his hand, "tell your mom thanks for being so thoughtful. And your dad and Rita as well," she added hastily, wishing Hal would just go now. But he loitered on the doorstep, tracing a pattern on the gravel path with his trainered foot.

"You're in my English class, aren't you?" he said thoughtfully.

"Oh, you noticed?" Bethany retorted, ready to slam the door on his face.

"Yeah, I noticed," Hal said, "I notice you don't talk to anyone."

"Nobody talks to me."

"Maybe it's because you're such an ice queen."

"Ice is dangerous."

"What, scared you'll break my neck?"

"More your heart actually."

"Maybe you'll just melt it."

Bethany scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief at his words.

"Or maybe you should melt your own," Hal pointed out with annoying accuracy.

"I'm not an ice queen," Bethany protested, knowing full well she was.

"Maybe even smile a little. It wouldn't hurt," Hal continued, eyes crinkling up in the corners now.

Bethany just shook her head, simultaneously wishing Hal would stay and leave. The longer she looked at him, the more it hurt her heart. The fact he was here, actually talking to her, was blowing her mind in ways she didn't even want to imagine.

"What's wrong?" Hal then asked gently. "Something happen?"

"My dad's having an affair," Bethany said bluntly, beyond caring now, "and my mom wants a divorce, so everything is a bit..."

"Crap?"

"Shit is a better word."

"Slightly more graphic though."

"I'm a graphic kind of girl."

Hal just nodded, his brow furrowing, making him look like Tom for a moment. "In that case, I should probably head back, then," he then said awkwardly.

"It's okay," Bethany said, her heart sinking with both grief and relief. "Thanks for bringing my bracelet round. I hadn't even realised it was gone..." Her voice trailed off and she concentrated on fixing the clasp of it around her wrist instead.

"Take care," Hal said quietly, "I'll see you around." And then he was gone, Bethany closing the door on the darkness, her heart filling with light.

_Like the sun that saves the night_  
_Bursting through a darkened sky_  
_We are, we are, soldiers of the light_  
_And we will glow..._


	5. To The Moon And Back

**To The Moon And Back**

_Tough girl_  
_In the fast lane_  
_No time for love_  
_No time for hate_  
_No drama, no time_  
_For games_  
_Tough girl_  
_Whose soul aches..._

Bethany sat on the porch steps, staring up at the moon, thinking as ever of Hal. His mother had told him some fairytale about the moon, Hal telling it to Bethany with an awkward air, something about his shyness in sharing the story touching her heart. She desperately wished she could remember what it was, but it was far from her thoughts, the memory eluding her. Sighing heavily, she buried her face in her hands, taking short shallow breaths as she tried to steady herself. Ever since Terry had brought her group back to the farmhouse where the 7th Mass was based, she'd been fighting the mad desire to cut and run, to just head for the hills.

She didn't understand why she felt this way, she just did. If it wasn't Jessup and Craig's smug, smirking faces setting her on edge, the pair acting like they were heroes for bringing Terry back, more or less saving everyone's skins, it was the claustrophobic confines of the kitchen, the smell of meat cooking making her want to vomit, the stench reminding her of burnt Skitter. She should be happy they'd found the resistance movement, not rebelling against its authority.

But they'd barely been within the walls of the farmhouse for five minutes when Terry had taken over, forcing her father to relinquish the reins of power to him. And the worst thing was how readily her father had done so, the relief on his face more telling than words. Terry's attitude was they were civilians, not soldiers, and it was time they knew their place. But it had made Bethany suddenly realise she wasn't ready to stop fighting, even though she no longer had her rifle.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" a voice asked almost brusquely from behind her.

Bethany glanced over her shoulder, only for her heart to sink. It was Terry, the person she wanted to avoid most.

"Hope I'm not interrupting your star-gazing," Terry said, coming over to her.

Bethany turned her back on him, her black braid swinging down her back.

"Which one are you again?" he said, sitting down beside her. "Abby?"

"Bethany," she said reluctantly.

"Ah, the one with the attitude," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Heard you telling that slime ball where to go back there" -

\- "Look, you might be their boss, but you're not mine," Bethany spat, cutting across him. "I'm not some schoolgirl civilian you can talk down to and patronize. My dad's been searching for the 2nd Mass for a long time now, but just because he's sold his soul to the 7th, doesn't mean I'll do the same."

Terry looked at her almost but not quite admiringly, not saying anything, just studying her face with an intensity that made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

"My dad's probably told you about what I did," Bethany said bitterly, "how I screwed up, how I deserted my post."

Terry looked away, still not saying anything.

"But I've learnt my lesson," Bethany said, almost pleading now, "I've did my time, I'll always be doing time. I can barely live with myself over what I did. I've got my blood on my hands and I'll never be able to wash it off. But I want to make it right; I want to make up for what I did. I want to fight, sir, that's all I want to do."

Silence.

"Welcome to the 7th Mass, then," Terry finally said, holding his hand out to her.

* * *

Hal shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, counting stars to distract himself from the sight of his father and Vivien locked in a passionate embrace. Even up on the roof, he wasn't safe from their displays of public affection. All Vivien had done was bring Tom a flask of hot soup to keep him warm while he was on night sentry duty, and Tom had reacted as though she'd just brought him the elixir of life itself, pulling her to him like he was some Hollywood hero. If it hadn't been his own father humiliating himself, Hal would have laughed long and hard.

"Jesus Christ," Maggie said under her breath, "somebody get them a room."

"Tell me about it," Hal said, turning his back on them. "I have to live with that."

"So do I," Maggie retorted, "you forget I'm sharing a tent with her - Tom's in it more than I am."

"But your tent is tiny," Hal said in disbelief, glancing at his father's too tall frame.

"I know," Maggie said before hollering over at Tom, "Hey, Hot Stuff! How about you share some of that soup!?"

Hal laughed, Maggie's dryness dragging him out the doldrums as usual.

"It's Pope's Special," Anthony said uneasily. "God knows what's in it."

"But Pope didn't make it, did he?" Maggie said as Tom let go of Vivien, looking slightly dazed. "He just left you all the recipe to remind the 2nd Mass of what they've lost."

"Still Pope's recipe," Anthony said, undeterred.

"What's up?" Tom asked as he came over, running his hand awkwardly across his beard.

"Nothing," Maggie said sweetly, confusing him.

"Thought you were on watch, Professor Kick-Ass," Anthony said reprovingly with a pointed glance at Vivien nearby.

"I'm on my break actually," Tom said, brow furrowing, "Dai's covering me."

Anthony just nodded, Tom nodding in return, looking more confused than ever, before wandering back to Vivien like a lost soul.

"I can't believe he just answered to Hot Stuff," Hal said under his breath, making Maggie grin despite herself.

"At least you don't have to listen to him reading out loud," Maggie said ruefully.

"What, is that what he does in the tent?" Hal said. "He reads her stories?"

"Yup," Maggie said, staring out at the horizon.

Hal just shook his head to himself, remembering against his will telling Bethany of the fairytale his mother had woven around the moon. He was more like his father than he realised.

* * *

Bethany exchanged an uneasy smile with Tessa as she passed her the salt. Terry had introduced Bethany to Tessa, placing her in the other girl's care. As Bethany helped Tessa and her father in the kitchen, she swiftly learned that earning citizenship with the 7th Mass didn't stop at carrying a firearm. Regardless of gender and age, everybody had to contribute. But oddly enough, chopping up vegetables didn't bother Bethany like it used to. Tessa's father washed plates when Will would have refused, setting an example her father would never follow, but she could.

Outside, Terry had talked to Bethany for a while, stating the situation they were in. Where they were, there was no Skitters, no Mechs, only peace and quiet. But it had been a peace hard-earned for the 7th Mass. Before going to ground at the farm, they'd engaged in a series of skirmishes with the enemy, losing a lot of people along the way. Where there had once been many, there was now only a few.

The resistance movement was still alive, but they were making little headway, their revolt only making the situation worse. Under Porter's orders, the 2nd Mass had been split into units, going to ground in various areas, but he'd lost contact with Porter way back, so he didn't know if the other units were still operating or not. All he could do was keep going by keeping his head down, consequently keeping his people safe.

But his attitude had sat ill with Bethany, who thought they had to keep up the fight regardless. Yet Terry had kept his cool, merely pointing out there was no point in bringing the fight to the enemy, not when the first rule of combat was survival and she should bear that in mind for her family, that a battlefield was no place to bring a baby into the world. The reference to her mother's pregnancy had swayed Bethany, leading her to all but beg Terry to help her mother, the man holding his hands up in mock surrender, almost teasing her out of her terror, saying gently that her mother was being cared for as he spoke.

"Dime for your thoughts?" Tessa asked, breaking into Bethany's reverie.

"I'm just worried about my mom," Bethany said, shaking her head.

"You shouldn't be," Tessa said gently, "she's safe here, you all are."

Bethany just smiled bitterly, setting the salt down on the draining board. Tessa was wrong. Nobody was safe, not anymore.


	6. And You Were There

**Author's Note:** The re-edited _Falling Slowly_, which _We All Fall Down _is a spin-off from, can be found under the 'My Stories' section of my profile, along with Tom and Vivien one-shots, _The Moments I Did Not Live_, _Odium _and _Recombinant, _and the Alexis one-shot _The Darkness Within_.

* * *

**And You Were There**

_Before_

Bethany pulled on a crumpled up white t-shirt and her favourite baggy jeans, before dragging on her battered trainers, hastily braiding her hair back into a side plait, slinging it over her shoulder. As she passed the mirror, she hesitated for a moment, not liking what she saw. A hectic flush coloured her face, making the freckles stand out on the bridge of her nose, her red-rimmed green eyes only making matters worse. She looked like death heated up but she didn't have the time to raid her make-up bag and create a bright and blooming Bethany, having slept in that morning, school starting in half an hour.

"Abigail, get your ass into gear!" Bethany hollered, grabbing her backpack from the bed, shoving a dog-eared science textbook into its front pocket.

"I'm getting Ellie dressed!" Abigail hollered back, sounding like she was about to snap. "And then I have to make her breakfast!"

"What!?" Bethany bellowed, sprinting down the hall before grabbing the doorframe and swinging herself into Ellie's room, stopping short at the sight of all of Ellie's clothes littering every conceivable surface.

"Mom's still in bed," Abigail spat, not looking up as she wrestled Ellie into a bright pink cardigan, "and I don't think she's getting up either."

"But who's going to look after Ellie while we're at school?" Bethany said stupidly.

"You tell me," Abigail snapped, buttoning up the butterfly shaped buttons wrong, "you're the oldest."

"But we can't stay home," Bethany said, shouldering her backpack, "I don't want the school sniffing round here asking questions."

"Lie then," Abigail said brutally, getting to her feet, "phone in and say we're both sick. Say we've got Spanish flu."

"Yeah, they're really going to believe that one," Bethany retorted.

"What else do we do, then?" Abigail exploded, pushing her long blonde hair out of her eyes. "In case you've forgotten, our dad high-tailed it out of here last night, leaving us to fend for ourselves since Mom is too selfish to think of anyone but herself" -

\- "Hey, he's been having an affair behind her back," Bethany said, stepping forwards, nearly breaking her neck on a Barbie doll, "you can hardly expect her to throw a party for him."

"I heard what she said about you - how she was forced to have a baby she didn't want, giving up her career for a kid she never asked for," Abigail hissed, her delicate features suddenly becoming distorted by hate, "if she thinks that about you, what the hell does she think about the rest of us? Does she class us as curses as well?"

Bethany stared at Abigail, the blood draining from her face.

"Yeah, me too," Abigail said, grabbing a hairbrush from Ellie's small pink dressing table. "Welcome to the family."

* * *

_You were right_  
_Outside by your doorstep_  
_In a worn out suit and tie_  
_I'll wait_  
_For you to come down_  
_Where you'll find me_  
_Where we'll shine…_

Once Abigail had brushed Ellie's blonde hair, she'd taken her little sister downstairs and made breakfast for her, time ticking past, making Bethany bounce on the balls of her feet, agitation making her left eye tick. They had to go to school; they couldn't stay home, trying and failing to hold things together. That would just bring unwanted attention to their door, attention Bethany didn't want. They had to present an unbroken front to the rest of the world, maintaining the illusion everything was alright. But last night, Bethany had let her guard down, telling Hal what had happened, a boy she barely knew, who barely registered her presence, and now she was wishing she hadn't, that she'd just kept her big mouth shut.

"Where's Daddy?" Ellie whispered, the anxious expression in her big blue eyes making Bethany's heart break.

"He's... away," Abigail said uneasily.

Bethany studied Abigail for a moment, unable to reconcile the harsh young woman before her with the pouting, prancing brat of yesterday. Underneath the shallow facade was a steel heart, somebody practical and prepared, making Bethany feel like she didn't know Abigail, not really. If anybody was to be relied on, Bethany had always flattered herself it would be her, but now she wasn't so sure.

"What are you staring at?" Abigail snapped, almost crushing the carton of apple juice between her fingers. "Have I got a wart on my nose?"

"Would you calm it down?" Bethany snapped back, glancing at the clock again. "You're just making everything worse."

"How can it get any worse than this!?" Abigail exploded, making Ellie flinch. "How can it!?"

As though in response to her question, the doorbell rang, making the two girls start violently. For a mad moment, Bethany thought it was Hal, only to recall he'd be at school now, where they should be. The doorbell rang again, the sound insistent, determined, and Bethany glanced at Abigail, unable to decide whether to answer it or not, silently asking Abigail to make the decision for her.

"Do it," Abigail said, slamming the carton down on the kitchen table. "Answer the goddamn door!"

Bethany shook her head, before stomping out into the hall, sliding her backpack off her shoulder and dropping it to the floor, somewhere near her stomach. Without looking to see who it was, she unlocked the door and flung it open, only to be confronted by the sight of an awkward looking Tom Mason, his family crowding the doorstep behind him. Bethany stood there, shell-shocked.

"Can I help you?" Bethany then said with great difficulty, trying and failing not to look at Hal.

"I was going to ask you the same question," Tom said not unkindly, nervously clearing his throat as he did so.

"Do you mind if we come in?" Rebecca Mason said almost but not quite abruptly, glancing around her.

Bethany didn't know what else to do but open the door and invite them in, the whole Mason clan traipsing into her dump of a home, Tom tripping up in the hall, his wife grabbing his elbow, stopping him from landing face first on the scarred floorboards.

"Oh, Tom," Rebecca sighed, shaking her head fondly at her husband.

"I know, I know," Tom muttered, the tips of his ears turning crimson.

Abigail appeared in the kitchen doorway, Ellie clutching her leg. "Benny?" Abigail said in disbelief, coming forwards, dragging Ellie with her.

"Yes, it is I," Ben said almost robotically, looking slightly confused.

The next thing everyone knew was that Abigail was flinging herself into Ben's bewildered arms, bursting into tears, Ellie clinging to Abigail's ankle. Bethany just stood there, half wishing the ground would open up beneath her, half relieved to have the old Abigail back again, the one that was bonkers about Ben, a boy who didn't even know she existed. It seemed to be the only thing they had in common other than a selfish pair of parents, but as her eye caught Hal's, something in his dark gaze made her realise she was wrong, that she existed in his eyes when her sister didn't in his brother's.

"Tom, would you take the kids to school?" Rebecca said delicately, trying to disentangle her hand from Matt's little one. "They're running late."

"All the kids?" Tom said, looking slightly taken aback.

"All but Ellie," Rebecca said, rolling her eyes.

"Wait up," Bethany said, returning back to life, "why are you here?"

"Hal told me about what happened," Rebecca said briskly, smoothing down Matt's unruly blonde-brown curls. "I figured Anna could do with a friend right now."

Bethany stared at her, before remembering what Hal had said, that his mother knew hers from pottery class or something. But Bethany hadn't even known her mother had joined a pottery class or that she'd struck up a friendship with Rebecca Mason, making Bethany suddenly realise how much she'd drifted apart from her family, her parents' particularly. Her dad had been playing away behind her mother's back, and Bethany hadn't known about that either. Would it have made any difference if she had? If she'd had her eyes open instead of shut, would it have changed anything?

"I'm not going to school," Abigail said, still clinging to the bewildered Ben like a limpet, "somebody has to look after Ellie."

"I'll look after her," Rebecca said firmly, "and your mother."

"We've not had any breakfast," Abigail argued.

"Tom will sort that out," Rebecca said, steering Matt over to his father. "Get your school stuff together and go out to the car, Tom will drive you and your sister to school along with the boys."

* * *

Tom pulled up outside McDonalds, checking the coast was clear before ushering the kids out of the people-carrier, ignoring Hal's mutterings about how he could have gotten them there faster if his father hadn't been so fuddy-duddy, hogging the steering wheel as though it was gold-plated. Bethany rolled her eyes; behind Hal's popular jock front was just a big brat with bouffant hair. Hal caught the eye-roll, glaring at her in return, Bethany glaring at him before catching herself, remembering too late what his family were doing for hers.

She and Hal had spent the drive avoiding each other's eyes, Matt wedged between Abigail and Ben, much to Abigail's anger and Ben's badly hidden relief. Bethany had suspected the seating arrangement was deliberate, Tom swooping to his middle son's rescue, much to her reluctant amusement. She then watched as Tom tried to keep his tribe in order whilst struggling to speak to his secretary on his battered mobile, attempting to explain that he was running late due to a family emergency.

"But we're not your family," Bethany pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest as Ben stopped Matt from running out in front of a brown Buick Skylark Sedan.

Tom frantically flapped his large hand at her, telegraphing her to shut the hell up, Hal copying him, father and son looking oddly alike for a moment.

"Okay, okay, I've got the message," Bethany said, rolling her eyes again.

Tom hastily pulled out his even more battered wallet, shoving it into Hal's hand, miming at him to take the others inside.

"Your wish is not my command," Hal muttered, taking Bethany's elbow and steering her forwards, the others trailing behind them, Ben holding Matt's hand, Abigail holding Ben's other hand in a death-grip, the sight making Bethany roll her eyes for the umpteenth time.

"I can't believe this is happening," she said in an undertone, trying and failing to tug her elbow out of Hal's hold.

"You better believe it is," Hal parried, dodging a Demi Moore lookalike.

"This is your doing, isn't it?" Bethany spat, sidestepping a spilt McFlurry on the floor.

"Can't you call your sister off my brother?" Hal said as he glanced over his shoulder at the others lagging far behind, sidestepping her question as he did.

"She's not some rabid dog that's escaped her leash," Bethany said, her stomach rumbling painfully.

"You're all nuts, you know that? You and your sister both," Hal said. "My dad told me about 'Hal's Harem' - what the hell's that about?"

"It was a joke," Bethany said scathingly, wishing Tom and his big mouth into the cornfield, "I assume you know what a joke is."

Hal just ignored her, propelling her to the end of a long snaking queue instead.

"There's no way in hell I can afford anything on that menu," Bethany said, thinking of the few cents left in her purse. Last night, she'd raided the emergency fund jar to pay for the takeout she'd ordered for their dinner, but other than that, the family finances were running low, another worry to keep her up at night.

"Don't worry," Tom said, coming up the side of them, "consider it... Tom's Treat."

"Oh my God, Dad," Hal whined, "can your jokes become anymore lame?"

"At least he knows what a joke is," Bethany pointed out, conveniently forgetting she was mad at Tom over 'Hal's Harem.'

"Hey, I know what a joke is, okay," Hal said, flaring up.

"Doesn't look like it to me," Bethany said sarcastically, her green gaze scanning the menu overhead, searching for the cheapest item possible. Between either starving or stuffing herself silly, she was choosing the more sensible middle ground of selecting something that would simultaneously settle her stomach and her conscience.

"Abigail, what would you like?" Tom asked her sister over his shoulder, trying and failing to keep a straight face at the sight of his son's long suffering one, Abigail having now dramatically cast herself across Ben's broad chest, Matt looking at her as though she was mad.

"I don't know," Abigail sulked, reluctantly detaching herself from Ben.

"What about school though?" Bethany said, glancing at her watch in agitation.

"Don't worry," Tom said tiredly, "I rang them up to tell them we're running late."

"Looks like you're landed with us, then," Hal said in an undertone to Bethany.

"Whoopedoo," Bethany muttered.


	7. But Darkness Was The Price

**But Darkness Was The Price **

Bethany stood in goal, clapping her hands together to warm them up, the fingerless gloves Tessa had lent her not doing much in terms of providing warmth. Despite the bright sunlight, there was no heat, the air chilly, the breeze biting into Bethany's exposed skin. She tossed back her black braid, striking a stance as Tessa dribbled the ball towards her, expertly evading one of the twins, her foot swinging back to make the kick -

"Shit!" Bethany shouted, the ball soaring over her head and into goal.

"Language!" Tessa shouted back, before doing a celebratory circuit of their makeshift pitch, high-fiving her team, the opposition hurling good-natured jeers at Bethany over letting their side down.

"Bethy, what you on, man!?" Craig cried, rumpling up his wild Afro. "We're gettin' our asses kicked here!"

Bethany rolled her eyes, before leaning against the makeshift goal-post, shaking her head at the sight of Tessa doing a cart-wheel. During the short time she'd been here, Bethany and Tessa had surprisingly become firm friends, the two sharing the cramped box-room they slept in along with Abigail, Tessa tolerating the younger girl with a patience Bethany lacked. With their mother now getting better, the temporary truce between the sisters had ended, Abigail back to acting like Bethany didn't exist.

Yet it wasn't all fun and games, hanging out with Tessa and playing kickball. Terry had given Bethany her rifle back, and she'd begun to religiously patrol the perimeters of their shelter, her fervency secretly amusing Terry. She'd been shocked to discover that the 7th Mass only kept a cursory eye on their borders, being more interested in guarding their supply shed than anything else, and she'd immediately volunteered for sentry duty, anxious to atone for her sins. Terry had granted her permission, and so she'd started doing double-shifts, her green gaze fixed on the forest that surrounded the farmhouse, always searching for the first sign of Skitters.

The struggle for survival seemed to be over - or so it appeared. But deep down Bethany knew peace was nothing but a pipe-dream. Right now, they were just catching their breath. Yet for the moment, she could be a kid again, instead of having to grow up too fast. But having time on her hands was giving her time to think, allowing her to flick through her thoughts at a more leisurely pace, making her remember memories long forgotten.

She remembered her grandmother, how deceptively fragile she had been, an illusion destroyed by her dirty laugh. She remembered the way the road flashed under her feet when their father drove down back-roads at breakneck speed, Bethany bullying him into going even faster. She remembered skipping school to see _The African Queen _when Somerville's small film theatre did a special showing of it.

But most of all she remembered Hal, what could have been, and what would never be. She remembered his easy laughter, the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners, how he would gesticulate wildly with his hands, his rare silences. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, she just prayed he was safe and sound until she found him again.

* * *

_I should've seen it coming  
It was right behind your eyes  
You were young and it was summer  
Winning you was easy, but darkness was the price..._

Tom smoothed back a loose wave of Vivien's black hair, making her stir slightly in her sleep. He studied her face for a long moment, his gaze dwelling on the dark circles etched under her eyes, forcing him to repress a deep sigh. Tom had hardly slept for the past week and a half, but in the end it had been worth it. He had Ben back, and thanks to the Doctor, they'd only lost one of the deharnessed children. It gave Tom hope for the future, that this was the first step towards turning the tide in their favour.

He stooped down, scooping up his checked shirt from the floor, turning red at the memory of how it had got there. After Tom had shot the Skitter in the tunnel, things had become strained between him and Vivien, their relationship reaching breaking point. Rescuing Ben and the other harnessed children had forced them to set aside their feelings and work together, but it hadn't been enough to heal the breach, Vivien becoming more distant than ever, much to Tom's torment.

So with Vivien resuming her usual double shift of sentry duty, Tom had turned in for the night, guiltily looking forwards to a full night's sleep, only for a knock on the door to wake him up, Vivien standing there, looking like some sort of fallen angel. Somehow she'd ended up his arms, his mouth crushing hers, her fingers almost ripping the buttons off his shirt, and here they were, back to the beginning, like they'd never started to fall apart.

Running his hand across his beard, Tom stood there, struggling to control the emotion hitting his heart like a tidal wave. It scared him how much Vivien could hurt him, a power she wielded like a whip, not bothering to hold back the blows. But he couldn't live without her, he realised that now, even as fate conspired to tear them apart. He was human, the second-in-command of an alien resistance movement, and she was an alien hybrid, caught between what was left of her humanity and those who had taken it from her.

Whilst Vivien vehemently opposed the Skitters and what they were doing, she was equally against killing them, siding with the Doctor in saying the Skitters weren't what they seemed. She had known the Skitter Tom had shot, calling it Sally, something that had enraged Tom. He had seen a monster where she had seen a friend, and this was what threatened their future together, because sooner or later she would have to pick a side, and Tom wasn't sure which one it would be.

"Oh God, I... I love you, Vivien," Tom whispered, his voice cracking, tears welling up in his eyes. "I - I _love _you." His words hung in the air, echoing through the still silence. But Vivien slept on, her brow furrowing slightly, her hands clenching into fists by her sides. Even in sleep, she fought him, turning his heart into a battlefield -

"Dad?" Hal hissed through the door, startling Tom. "Are you up?"

"Yeah," Tom hissed back, striding towards the door, roughly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "What is it?" he whispered, opening it, only to reveal Hal's harried face. "Is it Ben?"

"No, he's okay."

"Is it Pope, then? Did you find him?" Tom demanded, stepping out into the corridor, closing the door behind him, only to instantly regret it, realising too late he had an audience.

"Looking good, Professor Kick-Ass," Anthony said approvingly.

"Yeah, I know," Dai said, sounding insultingly astonished. "You been working out?"

"Shut up," Tom said, flushing hotly.

"For chrissake, put it away, Dad," Hal hissed as Maggie approached them, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead at the sight of Tom shirtless.

"Okay, okay, keep your hair on," Tom snapped, pulling on his shirt.

"What's the bloody racket?" Vivien demanded, sticking her head around the edge of the door, only to freeze at the sight of Tom and the others, suddenly becoming aware she was barely dressed apart from Tom's t-shirt she had on. "Oh," she said, before slamming the door on their startled faces.

"And there's me thinking you had hidden depths," Maggie said dryly to Tom, startling him even further.

"Excuse me?" he said, buttoning up his shirt.

"Never mind, Cambridge," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's obviously your muscles and not your mind that lured Vi over to the dark side."

Tom just stared at her, before shaking his head. "I don't get why you're all here," he said, brow furrowing. "What's with the deputation?"

"Bethany," Hal suddenly blurted out before he could stop himself. "_Bethany_."

As the others looked at him like he was mad, Tom stared at his son, taking a step forwards, the blood draining from his face. "Bethany?" he asked, his voice becoming oddly high. Before the skies had fallen, he had taken Bethany and her sisters under his wing, protecting them like they were his own. But she and her family had disappeared off the face of the earth, and there had been nothing he could do about it, forcing him to shelf his worry as Hal had shelved his grief.

Hal shook his head, almost shrinking into himself. "I - I don't know," he said, running his hand over his face, "I - I just had to say her name, you know?"

Tom nodded, understanding all too well. After losing his wife, he had sometimes blurted out her name for no reason, having the insane urge to just _say _it, because if he didn't, it would have been like she had never existed.

"She - she's gone, isn't she?" Hal said almost hysterically, making the others take a step back. "She's gone, like Mom, Karen. I - I couldn't save her, I couldn't save any of them" - And then he too was gone, Tom watching him go, what was left of his heart breaking for his son.

_I got no future  
I know my days are few  
The present not that pleasant  
Just a lot of things to do  
I thought the past would last me  
But the darkness got that too…_

* * *

Terry paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing oddly around the barn, Tessa's father and the other men watching him with narrowed eyes, their faces taut with tension. The newcomers had been at the farmhouse for a week and a half now, their presence jeopardizing what the 7th Mass had sacrificed their souls to achieve. This wasn't how the game was played. Within a day or so of a new group's arrival, all adults were dead, the children handed over to the Skitters. That was how the 7th Mass survived. But Terry had held off, making excuses, delaying the inevitable. He had taken an odd shine to the O'Haras, Bethany in particular, and it made him hesitate, leading him to breaking his own rules.

"You said never get attached, Clayton," Tessa's father said dangerously, stepping forwards, "that it was all for the greater good."

"I know," Terry said dangerously. "I'm just thinking the best way how to go about this."

"You handled this all wrong, man," one of the other men snapped. "You've let them get their feet under the table" -

\- "I said I'm dealing with it," Terry exploded, rounding on the man.

"Yeah, but how?" Tessa's father said. "The Skitters will be soon be sniffing around here again, and if we don't have what they want" -

\- "We do have what they want," Terry flared up. "We've got the O'Hara girls, the Dupont twins and the Bellamy brothers. All we have to do is get rid of their families" -

\- "And that's easier said than done," a red-haired man retorted. "We watch you with them, especially with Hawk-Eye and his brood. You're all best buddies. Who's to say you'll be able to go through with it?"

Terry just stared at him, his fists clenching by his sides. "Are you questioning my authority, Crawford?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm just making sure your head is in the game, sir," Crawford said, trying to stand his ground.

"My head is in the game," Terry snarled. "Is yours?"

For a mad moment, Crawford tried to stare his commanding officer down, before his nerve gave way. "Yes, sir," Crawford mumbled.

"Has anybody else got anything to say?" Terry said quietly, glancing round them. "If you do, say your piece, and say it now."

Nobody else said anything, not daring to.

Terry surveyed them all, his head then snapping up as somebody knocked on the barn door. "Come in!" he ordered, only to look taken aback as Bethany popped her head round the barn door, looking slightly confused at seeing them all standing there.

"Uh, dinner's ready," she said, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the next.

"Sounds good," Terry said, forcing a smile onto his face, "I'm starving."

Bethany just smiled and ducked her head, before leaving the barn. As the door clattered shut behind her, Terry's face fell back into its frown. Whether he liked it or not, they were right. He had to get his head into the game, and fast, or they would lose their foothold in the fight for survival. Whatever he felt had to be crushed aside, or he would be crushed in turn. There was no other choice, and no second chances.


	8. Chains

**Chains**

_Before_

"Hey," Hal said, throwing himself down in the seat across from Bethany's. "How did the house-viewing go?"

Bethany exhaled sharply, slumping back in her own seat. "It was a complete nightmare," she said, pushing the hair out of her eyes. "Mom took one look at the kitchen and that was it."

"What?"

"She said she wasn't raising her children in a shit-hole," Bethany said bluntly, making Hal wince, "that she hadn't been brought that low yet."

"But there's nothing wrong with the place," Hal said in bewilderment. "Okay, the decor's a bit dated, but the house is in a nice area, and my uncle is prepared to rent it to your mom for a reasonable price. What's not to like?"

"Talking to my mom is like talking to a brick wall," Bethany said tiredly, "you should know that by now."

"Well, _my _mom doesn't have a raft of brothers she can call in favours from," Hal said pointedly. "She's only got the two, and only one has a house to rent out."

"I know, I know," Bethany snapped, getting to her feet, "you don't need to make me feel anymore obligated than I do already."

"Whoa," Hal exclaimed, grabbing her hand, making her freeze, "hold your horses, Beth."

She just stared at him, the colour flooding her face, his touch almost burning her. For a moment, Hal just stared back at her, their gazes locking, then holding, the silence drilling into their skulls. Then Bethany snatched her hand out of his, her cheeks still blazing like fire. "Goddamn give me a break, Hal," she spat, grabbing her backpack from the table, "since nobody else does."

"Bethany" -

But she was gone, her black braid swinging behind her, Hal thumping the table in frustration.

* * *

_Three months later_

Bethany did a slow twirl in the full-length mirror, finally satisfied with her reflection. Prom-Night was a rite of passage, or so Anna had insisted, all but twisting her arm up behind her back to make her attend. She knew the real reason behind her mother's over enthusiasm, that she was trying to steer her away from Hal. For the past three months, Bethany had spent more time with the Masons than she'd done with her own family, Abigail fervently following her example, her mother's friendship with Rebecca Mason dying a quiet death.

She knew her mother silently resented the way Rebecca had taken over, dragging the O'Hara family back from the brink, setting them on course again. But Bethany was grateful, more than grateful, completely crediting Rebecca with saving them. Her father and mother had only been concerned with hurting each other, not caring who became caught up in the crossfire, and Rebecca had become Bethany's shield, her eldest son even more so.

To the undiscerning observer, Hal and Bethany were almost like brother and sister, bickering and bantering with one another. They hung out after school, sitting on the sidewalk outside Bethany's house, or on the swing-set in Hal's back-yard, talking about anything and everything, mercilessly slagging each other off. But this camaraderie came at a cost, and the price Bethany paid was to the amount of Rita. Bethany reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged into Rita's orbit, inhabiting the outer reaches of her friendship circle, sitting at Rita's table at lunch, or trailing after her on trips to the mall, always aware of Rita's relentless scrutiny, Rita waiting for Bethany to break rank and show her true feelings towards Hal.

But Bethany kept her emotions cloaked and under control, purely for the reason she didn't want to lose Hal's friendship. It wasn't enough, but it was all she had of him. Yet as each day passed, the battle to keep her heart hidden became harder and harder. Her curiosity had become a crush, only for that to become something else altogether. She scoffed slightly at the idea she was in love with Hal. In the grand scheme of things, she barely knew him, and how could she, so sarcastic and cold, always on the outside, love someone like Hal, jock extraordinaire, with his perfect teeth and bouffant black hair? But love him she did, against all rhyme and reason.

Unknown to her, Anna observed Bethany, seeing herself in her daughter, falling into the same trap of believing her first love would be her last. She hadn't been much older than Bethany when she'd first set eyes on Will O'Hara, forsaking all else for his sake. She'd given up her career for him, bearing his children, becoming his wife, sacrificing her dreams for his, all so she could stay by his side. And now look where it had led her; to the edge of divorce, turning her into a single parent with forty looming threateningly on the horizon.

Sometimes Anna looked in the mirror and wondered where the years had went, time slowly taking back the beauty fortune had bestowed upon her. Her beautiful eyes and hair were beginning to wrinkle and grey, the flawless face losing its usual impact, beginning to sag at the chin and cheekbones. If she could start over, she would keep her heart cold, focusing on a future where Will would never exist for her. But she couldn't begin again, all she could do was try and save Bethany from herself, from making the mistakes her mother had made, loving a boy who would only leave her in the end.

Yet Bethany wasn't one who could be so easily saved. Knowing her mother's aversion to Hal, she'd lied about Tom giving her and Hal a ride to the school, telling Anna instead that Rita was hiring a limo to take Bethany and the rest of her 'home girls' to Prom, giving them an entrance to remember. However, her cover would be blown as soon as Tom drew up outside the house, but she figured she would deal with the fall-out later. She smoothed down the front of her vintage Sixties mini-dress, before flicking her long black hair over her shoulder, only to falter, realising the gesture was one she'd unconsciously picked up from Rita, the knowledge making her grimace.

Rita had everything Bethany didn't; Hal, looks, money, a secure and loving home. But Bethany had everything Rita didn't; style, presence and character. Rita's impact on the world faded, whilst Bethany's remained. She may not have her mother's beauty, but she'd inherited her charisma. Bethany acknowledged her reflection one last time, raising her chin, her tip-tilted green eyes accepting the challenge the mirror offered, to accept herself for who she was.

"Beth?"

She turned around, instantly on the offensive at the sight of her mother standing in the doorway, face disapproving.

"That dress is inappropriate," Anna said, coming into the room. "What happened to that A-Line bateau chiffon number, the one with the princess high-neck collar that we picked out at Lord &amp; Taylor?"

"What I wear is none of your business," Bethany said coldly.

"Tom's running late," Anna said abruptly.

Bethany stared at her.

"Yeah, he phoned up to say Hal was having a corsage crisis," Anna said, crossing her arms over her chest, "and that they'd be here as soon as possible."

Bethany cast her gaze to the ground.

"Why did you lie to me, Bethany?" Anna said, her voice cracking. "What else are you lying about?"

"I only lied because you're always on my back about Hal," Bethany snapped. "What's your problem with him, Mom? He's never done anything to you" -

\- "But he will to you," Anna said, tears springing to her eyes. "He'll hurt you, just like your father hurt me."

Again, Bethany just stared at her. "It's not like that" -

\- "You're in love with that boy," Anna said, shaking her head. "I've seen the way you look at him. I used to look at your father in the exact same way."

"I'm not you, Mom," Bethany said, shaking from head to foot now, "and I'm not going to screw up like you either. So back off, okay?"

"I'm your mother, Bethany," Anna snapped, "how can I back off from my own daughter!?"

"Leave me alone," Bethany said, snatching up her bag. "Just - just leave me alone." And with that, she stalked out of the room, Anna watching her go.

* * *

As soon as Tom's people-carrier drew up in front of the house, Bethany all but flew down the porch-steps, Hal coming up the crazy paving path to greet her, looking almost unrecognizable. Bethany slowed down; taking in his slicked back hair and black dinner jacket, the cuffs turned back, the buttons of his black shirt left unbuttoned at the neck. Hal appraised her in turn, raising his eyebrows in exaggerated appreciation, his dark eyes gleaming with a glint they never had before. Bethany did a twirl, her long black hair fanning out behind her, green eyes framed with kohl, making her look decidedly feline.

"Like it?" Bethany taunted, knowing full well he did.

"No, I hate it," Hal teased, offering her his arm.

She took it with a toss of her head, Hal glancing at her with that glint again, setting her heart off like a tripwire. _He'll hurt you, just like your father hurt me. _Bethany dismissed her mother's words from her memory, only focusing on the future, her grip on Hal's arm unconsciously tightening, holding onto all she had left. As Hal led her towards the car, Tom did a double-take, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"_Bethany?_" he said, looking slightly taken aback at her exotic appearance.

"Guilty as charged," Bethany said smartly, instantly making Tom's face darken.

"That dress is inappropriate," he said, echoing her mother's admonishment.

"You're not my goddamn dad," Bethany flared up, "so stop acting like you are." Ever since Will had did his disappearing act, only appearing out of the blue when it suited him, and usually only to end up insulting Anna, Tom had nervously taken on all dad duties for the O'Hara girls, the sheer amount of pink involved almost paralysing him. He could be found hiding in the back row of Abigail's ballet recitals, or watching _The Little Mermaid _with Ellie, always with a terrified look on his face. As for Bethany, he'd become her personal bodyguard slash chauffeur, keeping a weather eye on her comings and goings.

"Dad, lighten up," Hal interjected, his gaze lingering on Bethany's long legs, "it's not the Dark Ages anymore."

"Just get in," Tom snapped, not liking the way Hal was looking at Bethany. Rebecca had dropped a few warning hints about Hal and Bethany's increasing closeness, hints Tom had chosen to ignore, thinking her theories were wide off the mark. His dismissal had been backed up by Bethany's dead-pan remarks about being a fully paid up member of Hal's Harem; the way she mocked Hal over everything from his taste in sneakers to his ridiculous love of Pringles. Yet now Tom realised too late that Rebecca was right and he'd been wrong, Hal looking at Bethany like he'd just won a million dollars.

"Yes, _sir_," Hal said, slightly startled. He helped Bethany into the car, glancing at her legs again, before looking away, guiltily remembering Rita, Tom telling them to put their seat-belts on before hitting the road. Hal might have been as different from Tom as night was to day, but when it came to women, they were exactly alike, falling in love for hopefully life, both one-woman men. Hal loved Rita, but ever since he'd set eyes on Bethany, things had started to change, his relationship with Rita slowly unraveling against his will.

Hal had lived a charmed life, sheltered and spoiled, knowing no will but his own. It was only his mother's influence that held him back from becoming obnoxious, stopping his naturally sunny nature from being soured by indulgence. His mother was his confidant and ally, the one he turned to as Tom turned away from him, unable to understand his son. Tom was bookish and shy, whilst Hal was a complete extrovert, ruling the sporting field as he did the social scene. Rita dictated and dominated Hal, but in the end, she always gave way to him like the rest of the world did.

But with Bethany it was different; she challenged him, forcing him to sit up and pay attention. From the first moment, she'd intrigued him, her stony silences and narrowed green eyes drawing him to her, much to his own detriment. For all his plastic popularity, Hal didn't subscribe to the social strata of geeks and jocks, but he knew his place as well as Bethany's, that he fitted in and that she didn't. But this wasn't what bothered him, it was his interest in her that disquieted him, and so he shunned her, pretending she didn't exist, even when he was well aware that she did.

Now she was part of his life, he thought things would change, and they had, but not for the better. Hal had come to crave Bethany's company, even as he craved Rita's flesh, his desires disastrously colliding with one another. He wanted Bethany but not in the way he wanted Rita, and none of it made any sense. But tonight, something had shifted in the balance, Hal finally seeing Bethany for who she really was, what his heart had recognized from the very beginning.

"How's your mom?" Bethany asked him, ripping him out his reverie. The last time she'd been round at his house, Rebecca had been sick, her bloodless face and thin frame shocking Bethany, Tom fending off her concern with suspicious aplomb, deliberately refusing to take her worry seriously, keeping the cancer a secret as Rebecca requested.

"She's holding up," Hal said uneasily, her question stirring up a past he'd rather forget. It wasn't _that_, which was making his mother so ill, it couldn't be - it _wasn't. _He fought the truth with denial, averment almost winning the war, his eye catching Tom's in the car mirror, his father hastily looking away, making Hal's heart stop in his chest.

"When are you getting Mylo fixed?" Bethany then asked, tucking a lock of ebony hair behind her ear, unaware of Hal's anguish.

"What?"

"Mylo?" Bethany prompted, brow furrowing.

"I'm going to the garage tomorrow," Hal said hastily, recovering himself. In a mocking moment, Bethany had named his beloved car, Mylo. Why, Hal didn't know, but the nick-name had stuck. However, he'd totalled his car several days before, Rita running her own vehicle off the road, forcing them to rely on their respective parents to ferry them to the prom, Rita deriding hiring a limo as tacky, Tom refusing outright to foot the bill for one, since he already was paying for Hal's car repairs.

"Tomorrow is another day," Bethany sing-songed, nudging Hal in the side.

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," Hal repeated from memory, automatically elbowing her in return.

"Keep telling yourself that, dear," Bethany said, rolling her eyes. "You do give a damn."

_Too much, _Hal thought to himself, glancing out of the window. _Too much._

_With her wine-stained lips, yeah, she's nothing but trouble_  
_Cold to the touch but she's warm as a devil_  
_I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul_  
_She takes until I break and I can't get more…_


	9. The Coming Storm

**The Coming Storm **

"Hey, watch it!" Bethany exclaimed, rubbing her arm where Abigail had barged her.

"Fuck you," Abigail spat over her shoulder, her face like thunder.

"Hey, I won't tolerate that sort of language in my kitchen," Tessa's father said, striding forwards, flinging a tea-towel over his shoulder.

"Don't tell me what to do," Abigail retorted, making Jessup glance up from where he was cleaning his rifle, "you're not my dad."

"No, but you still have to contribute like the rest of us do," Tessa's father snapped as Tessa came through the back door, lugging a basket of vegetables, "so stop sulking and go and pick these goddamn berries like I asked you to an hour and half ago, okay?"

Abigail just flipped him the middle finger before stalking out of the kitchen.

"Hey!" Bethany said, rounding on Tessa's father. "She can't go out there by herself!"

"We've done it tons of times," Tessa shrugged, setting her basket down on the counter, "so what's the worry?"

"That was different," Bethany snapped, "I had my rifle - she doesn't have anything" -

\- "Chill, Beth," Jessup said, getting up off the window-sill, "I'll make sure she's safe."

Bethany just stared at the older Bellamy brother, wrongfooted. "Uh, okay, thanks," she said, taken aback.

Jessup just nodded before leaving the kitchen, pushing the dreadlocks out of his eyes as he went, Tessa watching him go, looking thoughtful. "He's cute, isn't he?" she said, her gaze drifting across his broad shoulders. "But his little brother's even cuter" -

\- "Don't even think about it, Tess," her father snapped, startling Bethany, "I'm not having you hooking up with some zebra" -

\- "Hey!" Bethany exploded, whirling on him. "Watch what you're fucking saying, asshole!"

"I'll say what I want," he spat, advancing on her. "You people think you can just waltz in here" -

\- "You know we don't tolerate that kind of racist rhetoric in here," Terry said from behind them, making Tessa's father freeze, "and Bethany and her people are part of our family now, okay?"

Tessa's father just stared at Terry, looking like he was going to say something, before snatching the tea-towel from his shoulder and flinging it down on the draining board, stalking towards the kitchen doorway instead. Tessa shrunk back as her father barged past her, before following him, ducking her head as she passed Terry and Bethany, shame making her unable to meet their eyes. Terry turned to Bethany, his face apologetic.

"I'm sorry about that," he said quietly, "the man tends to let his tongue run away from him sometimes."

"That wasn't him just running off his mouth, Terry," Bethany snapped, still shaken by what she'd heard.

Terry just stared at her, like he'd never seen her before, his eyes dilating oddly.

"What's - what's wrong?" she said, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the next.

"You... you called me Terry," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

This time Bethany just stared at him, bewildered, then she jumped violently as Bob bellowed her name from the dining room, Terry flinching like he'd been hit. "I - I should go and see what he wants," she stuttered, not sure what had just happened.

"Yeah, run along," Terry said, turning away from her.

Bethany made a break for the door, her heart thudding in her chest, telling herself that she'd just imagined the expression in Terry's eyes. He wouldn't look at her like that, and he hadn't. She was just jumping to conclusions. He was old enough to be her father, older than her father. Hands shaking, she made her way over to Bob, his pregnant niece looking up from the layette she was knitting, her curious gaze crashing into Bethany's, before hastily glancing down again, resuming her purling, her homely face flushing slightly. Ever since Sam had more or less abandoned her to pursue Bethany instead, things had been awkward between the two girls, even after Bethany had kicked Sam to the kerb, Sam implying to all it had been the other way about.

"Hey," Bob said, his brow furrowing with worry. "You okay, kid?"

"I'm - I'm fine," Bethany said, sitting down on the sofa opposite him. "What's - what's wrong?"

"I can't find ma glasses," Bob said mournfully.

Bethany just stared at him, completely baffled.

"Your dad fixed the rivet," Bob's niece dared to explain, flushing even more now.

"That doesn't mean I have them though," Bethany snapped, recovering herself.

"I was just sayin', man," Bob's niece flared up. "Don't take your shit out on me."

"What shit?" Bethany retorted.

"I'm talkin' about that piece of shit called Sam," Bob's niece spat, "just cos he threw you over" -

\- "Excuse me?" Bethany almost squeaked, getting to her feet. "_I _was the one that chucked him" -

\- "Whoa," Bob said, diving between them, "cool it down, Betty."

Bethany just stared at him again, her green eyes blazing in her pale face, her lower lip trembling threateningly. And then she was gone, slamming the dining room door shut behind her, Bob sitting back down on his chair.

"Lil spitfire," he said, shaking his head. "Now where did I put ma glasses?"

* * *

_If I could just see you_  
_Everything would be all right_  
_If I'd see you_  
_This darkness would turn to light…_

Hal sat on the edge of the camp-bed, his head buried in his hands, his mind a storm of thoughts, flickering from his mother to Karen to Bethany and back again. In the rare silences that sometimes fell, he would be besieged by the past, making him want to claw the memories out from his skull. They hurt him in a way the present couldn't, drawing his heart's blood, dragging him into the darkness.

His father had put Matt to bed, Vivien singing the little boy to sleep, the sound of her voice reassuring him when nothing else would. Whenever she sang, Tom would leave the door ajar, leaning the back of his head against the leather of his office chair, his dark eyes becoming filled with an inscrutable emotion Hal could never decipher. Tom had once compared first meeting Vivien akin to being hit by a blunt object, and it made Hal wonder if that was what had made his father mad enough to play house with a girl half his age, all common sense completely knocked out of him.

"You okay?" Tom asked Vivien in an undertone as she quietly closed the door behind her, the soft click making Hal glance up.

"Hmm," Vivien said tiredly, donning the red coat Tom had gotten her, an in-joke Tom never tired of.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Tom said, brows drawing together.

"I'm coming with you on the fuel run," Vivien said, staring at him.

"No, you're not," Tom said, shaking his head as he stood up, "you're staying here."

"You can't keep leaving me behind like some little housewife," Vivien retorted, her eyes flashing blue fire, "I won't have it. I'm a fighter, not a civilian."

"I don't care what you are," Tom snapped, "you're staying here and that's it."

"You can't stop me" -

\- "I can and I will," Tom said dangerously, "I'm second-in-command of the 2nd Mass, not you, and I'm giving the order that you stay here."

Vivien just stared at Tom, the blood draining from her face at his tone.

"You refuse to kill Skitters as a matter of principle," Tom said, stepping forwards, "and I can't afford for you to have that kind of attitude out there, risking the lives of the others over an issue of conscience. If you refuse to raise a rifle against the enemy, then..."

"What, _I'm_ the enemy then?" Vivien spat. "You really need to take a long hard look at yourself, Tom. You're _literally _sleeping with the enemy" -

\- "That's enough," Tom snapped again, glancing at Hal. "Our relationship is separate from the 2nd Mass" -

\- "So you're stopping me from coming because you're my superior?" Vivien said. "Or because I'm stepping out of line, not knowing my place, not being the Stepford Wife you so obviously want me to be?"

Tom looked away, running his hand across his beard. "I just want to keep you safe," Tom admitted against his will, "and I can't do that out there."

"Nowhere's safe, Tom, least of all here."

"You're still not coming with me."

"I might not tote a rifle, but I still contribute," Vivien said, "I get supplies, I drive, I do recon, I keep watch" -

\- "You're staying here," Tom said coldly, cutting her off. "Hal, I'll catch you later, yeah?" he said abruptly to his son.

"Take care, old man," Hal said, avoiding Vivien's angry gaze.

"Always do," Tom said, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him at the last second, making Hal jump violently.

Vivien stood there, before shaking her head in disbelief and taking off her coat, throwing it over the back of the leather office chair, a final affront to Tom. Hal knew Vivien well enough now to know the danger signs that she was going to explode, but to his surprise, she didn't. He guessed that she was thinking of Matt and Ben in the room next door, not wanting to wake them up if they weren't already.

"You okay?" Hal hazarded, bracing himself for the fall-out.

"What do you care?" Vivien said tiredly. "You love it when me and your father fight."

"Yeah, because I think this... this _weird_ thing he's got going on with you is about to blow up in his face big-time," Hal snapped.

"What weird thing?" Vivien asked, confused.

"Just you and him being together," Hal said awkwardly, "it's... it's _weird_."

"I care about your father, Hal," Vivien said, staring at him like he was mad. "What's weird about that? And don't say it's the age gap. What's good enough for Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart is good enough for me."

Hal just stared at her. "All this," he then said, gesturing around him, "it's just a pit-stop to you. My father is nothing but a fling, another notch" -

\- "You stop right there," Vivien hissed, her face suddenly feral, "and you stop now."

Hal fell silent, suddenly scared at this other side of Vivien, the monster within.

"I'm not going anywhere, Hal," Vivien said, trying to keep herself under control, "so you can get that out of your pretty boy head."

"You're not going anywhere because you've got it good here," Hal said before he could stop himself, "my dad gives you all he's got, extra food and all your orders - he nearly got skewered by a Skitter getting that goddamn coat for you - he's good to you" -

\- "Because he's a good man," Vivien said, stepping forwards, "but that's not why I'm with him. I'm with him because I _want_ him."

Hal looked away, his stomach turning.

"I'm sorry to be so blunt, _boy_," Vivien snapped, "but I'm not going to take on a middle-aged widower with three sons unless there's a good reason for it. You might think my motives are materialistic, but they're not, far from it."

"I really don't want to know," Hal said, standing up. "Seriously, if you say anymore I'm going to barf up my dinner."

"Look, I'm not trying to replace your mother, Hal," Vivien said, running her hand down the side of her face, "and I'm not gunning for second place either, playing the part of evil step-mother. If you want, I'll be your friend, but if you don't, fine. Just don't try and fuck up my relationship with your father, alright?"

* * *

When Bethany slunk back into the farmhouse, feeling slightly foolish over her temper tantrum, it was only to find the place in an uproar. Bewildered, she stood in the doorway, watching her father yell at Terry, Bob and his niece supporting her mother, almost like they were stopping her from fainting, Ellie clinging to her leg, Craig being held back by Tessa and Sam. Everyone else was either shouting or silent, their faces ranging from angry to anxious, the men of the 7th Mass merely observing, eyes inscrutable, Tessa's father at the fore, his rifle half raised.

"Where is she!?" Will hollered, grabbing Terry by the lapels, shaking him like a rag-doll. "Where the hell is my daughter!?"

"Stand down!" Terry ordered, halting Tessa's father with his hand. "You need to calm down, Will," Terry tried to say reasonably whilst trying to disentangle himself, "they've probably just got lost" -

\- "My brother knows those woods like the back of his hand!" Craig snapped, lunging forwards again. "There's no way he would be lost! No fucking way!"

"There's probably a logical explanation why they're not back yet," Terry said, exchanging a glance with Tessa's father, "so let's not jump to conclusions" -

\- "What type of goddamn conclusions!?" Will exploded. "That the Skitters have them!?"

Anna let out a terrible cry, her knees buckling beneath her, Bethany rushing to her side, head spinning, feeling like she was going to throw up, everything suddenly making sense. _Abigail was gone... _

"Don't jump the gun, O'Hara," Tessa's father said coolly, "we're talking about a more mundane reason here. Something... more down to earth."

"What the hell are you talking about!?" Will spat as Bethany steered her mother over to the sofa. "Two kids are missing and all you can do is stand there and speak in riddles!"

"I'm talking about the Bellamy boy sticking his tongue down your daughter's throat at every opportunity he can get."

Bethany stared at him, his words hanging in the air, making Will's face fade from red to white. He let go of Terry, before striding over to Tessa's father so he was standing nose to nose with him. "What did you just say?" he asked him in a low voice, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides.

"I said your brat has been hooking up with that half breed," Tessa's father said slowly, enunciating every syllable, as though he was speaking to an imbecile.

"Watch your mouth," Will hissed before glancing over at Craig, who'd stopped struggling, looking shifty all of a sudden. "Is this true?" Will fired at him. "Is your brother messing around with my kid?"

Craig just shrugged his shoulder, dropping his gaze to the ground.

"Don't just shrug your shoulder at me!" Will bellowed. "Is he or not!?"

Craig hesitated before nodding.

Will took a step forward before thinking better of it, suddenly punching the wall, making everybody jump.

"See, that's precisely why they were sneaking around!" Craig exploded. "Because they knew you'd go bat-shit on them like you did with Beth and Sam!"

Bethany and Sam did a simultaneous doubletake. "Hey, there was no me and Sam," Bethany snapped, standing up. "So get that fucking idea out of your head" -

\- "None of that is relevant," Terry said smoothly, "your tangled love-lives are beside the issue."

"I thought they were precisely the issue," Bethany said dangerously. "You're making out my sister and Jessup are smooching somewhere in the woods, and that they've just lost track of the time."

"And we're wasting time talking about it," Terry said, turning to the others. "Let's go out there and get these kids," he ordered, clapping his hands together. "We've got work to do."

As the men filed towards the door, Bethany made to follow them, only for her father to stop her. "You stay here, look after your mother," he said, roughly dropping a kiss on her brow, before smoothing back her black hair with a bloodied hand. But before she could protest, he was gone, leaving what was left of his family behind.


	10. Colouring In The Black Hole

**Colouring In The Black Hole**

Bethany crept around the corner, heart in mouth, rifle slung across her back. She had a knife in her belt, and two handguns in leg holsters strapped to her thighs, spare ammunition rattling in Tessa's furry leopard print backpack, an affair that belonged the old world. Bethany had 'borrowed' it, along with her extra weapons and some food and water, unconsciously anticipating a journey she may never return from. Her father and the others were still out looking for Abigail and Jessup, and Bethany could no longer endure the waiting, the tension crushing her like walls.

She had pretended to go to bed, biding her time, before sneaking out, Tessa snoring like an elephant, the house otherwise strangely silent. Her mother and Ellie were curled up in the double bed, looking oddly alike in the gloom, the sight of them so nearly stopping Bethany from leaving. But she thought of Abigail lost out there, Jessup or not, and it decided her there and then, driving her woodwards. Yet just as she was about to head towards the treeline, a hand was suddenly clamped across her mouth, stifling her cry of surprise, an arm around her waist, dragging her back.

"What the fuck!?" she hissed, whirling on Sam, who backed up against the wall, hands flung up in silent surrender.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing, sugar," Sam snapped, "what the hell you playin' at!?"

"I'm not playing at anything," Bethany snapped back, her face bone-white in the moonlight, "I'm going out to find Abby and Jess."

"Sounds like the goddamn Babes in the Wood," Sam muttered to himself. "But you can't go harin' off in the dark by yourself," he said, returning his attention to Bethany, "you's just gonna end up in some space scrapyard somewhere, along with the rest of those harnessed kids" -

\- "And so might my sister," Bethany said, making for the trees, "that's why I have to go out there – I can't cower in my bed, hoping for the best, that Daddy dearest will bring her back. That's just pure... pure _piffle!_"

A reluctant grin tugged at the corner of Sam's lips at this immature outburst, making him scrunch up his eyes, knowing he was probably about to make the biggest mistake of his life. "Wait up, Beth," he called after her, finally daring to lower his hands, "I'll come with you."

Bethany turned around, wrongfooted by his offer, her green gaze searching his face for the catch. But Sam stood his ground, pulling out his guns as he did, glancing around him, sensing the unseen stares surrounding them.

"I might be a douchebag," he said, motioning her forwards, "but even I know my limits."

* * *

_Before_

Bethany stood on the doorstep, looking down at Hal's pale face, her heart twisting in her chest at the sight of him suffering. It had been two weeks since the prom, a night burned into Bethany's brain, where everything had changed without seeming too. Rita and Hal had been crowned Homecoming King and Queen, Bethany dutifully clapping their victory along with the rest of Rita and Hal's clique, standing apart despite standing amongst them, looking like she was one of them, that she counted.

But she would never be one of their number, and she didn't want to be. The girls who clung to Rita's high heels were pleasant enough, albeit vapid and shallow, the real threat being Rita, and Hal's jock buddies swung between being sweet and obnoxious, but Bethany and they were just ships passing in the night, faces she would soon forget. After graduation, all she would remember would be sitting out on the sidewalk with Hal, or lying in the long grass beside him, with Ben and Abigail either side of them, staring up at the stars, innocence in the air, a world away from Rita's whispers about how Hal was going to spend the night at her house before graduation, taking that final step in their relationship.

Yet Hal was holding back, not wanting to take that final step, his heart in turmoil. Prom had passed predictably, a blur of smiling faces, the weight of the crown heavy on his head, embodying all the expectations of him. He'd danced with all of Rita's friends, Bethany included, saving all the slow dances for Rita, even though he imagined it was Bethany in his arms, her green gaze holding his, saying without words what they were. He'd even danced with the principal, earning applause, the sound making his stomach strangely turn.

Somewhere during the course of the night, he'd discovered Bethany had disappeared from the debauchery, and he'd made his excuses to his drunken court, Rita swaying wildly on the spot with the Spanish exchange student, not noticing his exit. He'd found Bethany out in the playing fields, her feet bare, the moon high above them both. Without saying a word, he'd finally taken her in his arms, the two of them slowdancing to the distant strains of music echoing through the air, holding onto all they had left.

Summer was drawing to an end with their childhood, both of them graduating a year early, Hal leaving for college, Bethany for a fate still unknown. It was time to make choices, to take chances, but in that moment, Hal didn't want to think of that future, what it might mean for him and Bethany. The present was already putting pressure on them, what with his unravelling relationship with Rita, the uncomfortable fact Bethany's parents were still sleeping together but denying it in the face of their impending divorce, and the knowledge that his mother's cancer might have returned – Hal didn't want to face any of that, only allowing the darkness to envelop him and Bethany both, shutting out the rest of the world.

He'd awkwardly told her the fairytale his mother had woven about the moon, Hal uncharacteristically shy as he shared the story, and afterwards they'd sat on the bleachers, looking up at the sky, not imagining it would soon be falling down, their hands brushing together but never fully touching. As Hal looked up at Bethany on the doorstep above him, that night was before him, how it had made him feel, the past replacing the present, Bethany seeing the falling sky in his eyes, and somehow she was in his arms, his hands sliding over her hips, her fingers becoming entangled in his dark hair, foreheads bumping, forever between them.

"Not yet," Hal whispered, forcing himself to let go of her, before that line would be crossed, "soon, but not yet."

Bethany exhaled sharply, turning away from him, pushing her black hair back with both hands. There had been nobody before Hal, and she believed in that moment there would be nobody after him, that this was it, and when she was an old woman, she would look back and see that second he was hers and nobody else's, time unable to take that away from her.

"I'll speak to Rita tomorrow," Hal said in a rush, "and tell her that it's over, I swear." Impulsively, he took her hands in his, dropping a kiss on her knuckles, too much his father's son despite their differences.

"Tomorrow?" Bethany echoed, her green gaze finding and holding his.

"Tomorrow," Hal promised, not knowing the world would end tomorrow.

* * *

Sam put his finger to his lips, Bethany pressing her back against a tree, her hand reaching for her knife. He glanced around him, brow furrowing slightly, still sensing those unseen stares. Yet it seemed like he and Bethany were the only people left in the world, an unconventional Adam and Eve, the thought making him glance at Bethany's bare legs, a bad habit he would never be able to break.

"Hot damn," Sam breathed to himself, half wishing he'd played the long game with Bethany after all, rather than turning to Bob's niece for physical consolation.

Bethany threw him a funny look, but seeing they still seemed to be alone, she set forth again, Sam following her, still eying her long limbs. "Abby?" she hissed, glancing around her. "Jessup?"

"Keep it down, kid," Sam hissed, "do you want to bring the Skitters down on us!?"

"I don't think they'd fancy a Sam sandwich," Bethany hissed back, eying his stained shirt with disgust, "not unless they were competing in a barfing contest."

Sam made a low whistling sound. "That's me shot down, big style," he muttered, "maybe I've had a lucky escape."

"More like I have" -

\- "Ain't my fault Marlene got knocked up," Sam spat, rounding on Bethany, "I made her no promises, but she went an' tried to trap me all the same" -

Bethany screamed as a Skitter suddenly appeared out of the darkness in front of them, Sam letting out a yell, only for his head to go rolling across the leaf strewn ground, splattering Bethany with blood, a Skitter looming over his fallen body. Her feet remained rooted to the spot, even though every instinct was screaming at her to run, Bethany unable to breathe or blink or _be,_ the two Skitters circling her, claws clicking together, their lizardlike gazes contemplating her almost thoughtfully.

A whimper escaped her lips, tears dribbling out of the corners of her eyes, the sky spinning above her, Sam's head by her feet, the startled expression on his face almost amusing, like somebody had jumped out from behind a tree and yelled _BOO!_ at him. Bethany's fingers twitched in the direction of her knife, the only weapon within reach, her other weapons seeming like they were worlds away.

"_Please_," Bethany whispered, knowing she was wasting her words, "_please_" -

One of the Skitters heads exploded, making Bethany jump violently, her knees finally giving out beneath her. "Fuckin' run, kid!" a man yelled from amongst the trees. "Prayin' to God ain't gonna work this time!"

Bethany scrambled to her feet, hearing the sound of more Skitters approaching, the other Skitter meeting the same fate as its companion as they did, the gunshot echoing through the air. Black hair blinding her, she took off amongst the trees, her cowboy boots slipping and sliding over the leaves, sobs tearing themselves out of her throat. Where she was running, she didn't know, only knowing home was now a myth; shelter a story that had turned its final page a long time ago.

_There's a pattern in the system  
There's a bullet in the gun  
That's why I tried to save you  
But it can't be done..._


	11. In All The Wrong Places

**In All The Wrong Places **

Will strode through the doorway, face pale beneath his black beard, his long hair tied back, making him look like a buccaneer from days of old. Anna stood up, her own face equally pale, shaking from head to foot, Ellie clinging to her leg. She had awoken in the night, seized by some nameless terror, driving her to Tessa's box-room, only to see two empty beds, Bethany gone like Abigail, Tessa still snoring like an elephant.

"What the hell is it!?" Will demanded, glancing at the others who were assembled in their pyjamas and nightgowns, the sight of their red-rimmed eyes only serving to set off further alarm bells. "Why you all tricked out like you're at a wake!?"

"Bethany's gone," Anna choked out, knowing without words Abigail was equally gone, "and Sam's dead. The – the Skitters..." She broke down, burying her face in her hands, Will swaying on the spot, his sky starting to fall, his family falling apart with it.

"What do you mean she's gone?" Terry asked urgently, stepping forwards, exchanging a glance with Tessa's father.

"She done gone out to find Abby and Jess," Bob spoke up, "Sam too – me an' Craig went out after 'em, but we only found Sam."

"What was left of him," Craig said darkly, making Bob elbow him sharply in the side, earning himself a silent but sore rebuke.

Will just stood there, his face now completely bloodless, his green eyes blazing like emerald fire. "I'm going back out there," he said abruptly, barely able to see for the tears blinding him, "and don't try and stop me," he fired at Terry who was just about to attempt just that, "you're not a father, I can't expect you to understand."

_It's not easy for me to talk about__  
__I have heavy heart-strings__  
__I'm not simple, it's trigonometry__  
__It's hard to express__  
__I can't explain…_

* * *

Anna waddled in the direction of the supply shed, clutching the Bowie knife Will had given her when the world had ended, Bob by her side, gun in hand, jumping at the slightest sound. It was three in the morning, the sky pitch black, the darkness hiding its cracks. Anna stopped for a moment, pain shooting through her as the baby kicked her for not the first time that night, almost as if it was angry at Anna for awakening it from its embryonic slumber.

"S'gonna be okay, Anna," Bob said, taking her elbow, "Will's a tough nut to crack, an' Abby an' Bethy are j'st like 'im. He'll brin' 'em back, both of 'em."

"I know," Anna said, exhaling sharply, battling the tears springing to her eyes again, "it's just the waiting and the not knowing."

Bob clucked his tongue sympathetically, before steering her on, anxious to get her inside. They'd all been sitting in the living room, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife, Anna unable to take anymore, mumbling an excuse she wanted something to eat, playing the card of her cravings. But Tessa's father had suddenly forbidden her the kitchen, something that had made everybody raise their eyebrows, Terry smoothing it over by saying there was nothing in the cupboards, a blatant lie.

But Anna had just accepted his words, just wanting out of the house, its once welcoming atmosphere now suffocating. Something had changed, the 7th Mass suddenly hostile, Anna not understanding why. The fact Terry would sanction denying food to a heavily pregnant woman, before allowing her go unescorted out into the darkness and danger, only served to emphasize this abrupt change in attitude.

"They's mad at us," Bob said quietly, putting her anxious thoughts into words, "for bringin' trouble to their doorstep."

"I – I don't think it's just that," Anna said slowly, uneasily remembering Terry's almost flippant manner over the fact three children were missing whilst Skitters stalked the woods outside, "I think... I think there's something else going on."

Bob frowned as he pushed open the supply shed door, his words dying on his lips at seeing a stranger standing in front of the shelves, the man whirling around, rifle instantly raised in their direction. "Uh," Bob said stupidly, "put dem gun down!"

"Only if you lay down your weapon first, buddy," the stranger snarled, tossing his long brown hair back. "And close the door, sweetheart," he fired at the frozen Anna, "you're lettin' in a draft."

Anna hastily obeyed, holding her hands up in front of her in silent surrender. "Please," she said, her voice cracking, "don't – don't hurt us."

The stranger studied her, his mocking gaze sweeping over Anna, taking her in from top to toe, from her blonde ponytail down to her baby bump, lingering on her beautiful face the longest. "Nobody's dyin' tonight, darlin'," he said, even as he kept his rifle raised, "just let me take my fill, and I'll be on my sweet way."

"Are you hungry?" Anna said just as stupidly as Bob, making the stranger raise his eyebrows.

"No, I'm fine and dandy," the stranger said sarcastically, "I'm eatin' like a king out there, dinin' on tree bark and Bugs Bunny."

"I'm sorry," Anna said, lowering her hands, something about the long-haired stranger strangely reminding her of her husband, "I – I mean you're welcome to take what you need." Her bright blue gaze was no longer scared but sympathetic, Bob looking at her like she'd lost her mind.

The stranger studied her again, his brow furrowing slightly. "You're not with the sainted 7th Mass are you?" the stranger said suddenly, startling Anna. "Can't imagine one of their own offerin' me the run of their stash."

"No, we just joined them," Anna said, not understanding his angle, "my husband was searching for the 2nd Mass" -

\- "You don't wanna join them, sugar," the stranger said, finally lowering his rifle, "they're battin' for the other side."

"What, they're with the aliens?" Bob squeaked, eyes widening behind his glasses.

"You really don't know, do you?" the stranger said, almost like he was enjoying their ignorance. "Their second-in-command's shacked up with some alien human hybrid and she runs with two-hearted honest to goodness Gallifreyans who look like the average Joe" -

\- "An alien that looks human?" Anna said, her blood running cold at the thought of this new threat facing her husband and daughters out there. "Not a Skitter?"

"Yeah, an alien that ain't one of the eight-legged bastards that's kicked our ass to kingdom come," the stranger agreed, his face darkening, "and the same goes for the girl. They're completely different species, man. The whole universe is swarmin' with these shitfucks and they're headin' straight for our neck in the woods."

Anna took a step back, unable to process the fact there were other aliens out there, not just the ones they were up against. Her naivety made the stranger lose what was left of his already strained impatience, his lips curling downwards.

"Listen, honey, the 2nd Mass ain't the only ones to turn traitor," the stranger snapped, "I've seen your 7th Mass conferrin' with the cooties" -

\- "I see you've uncovered our dark secret," Terry said coolly, making Anna and Bob whirl around, the stranger instantly raising his rifle. "Now, now, there's no need for any of that," Terry admonished as some of his men entered the supply shed, "let's keep things friendly, hmm?"

* * *

Before Anna and Bob could react, they and the stranger were surrounded, Terry taking their weapons, those of his men aimed at their heads. The next thing they knew, all three were marched outside and into the barn, the stranger separated from them, Anna and Bob forced against the wall where the rest of their people were gathered, Craig conspicuously absent.

"What's going down', man!?" the stranger demanded, struggling with his captors.

Terry just ignored him, turning to Tessa's father who carried Ellie in his arms, Anna crying out, trying to reach her daughter, one of the men slamming his rifle butt into her stomach, making her scream and collapse to the ground in agony, anyone trying to help her receiving the same treatment, being battered back.

"What about this one?" Tessa's father said, holding Ellie up like an offering.

Terry studied her for a moment. "Too small," he said, shaking his head. "But we've got enough for now."

"What, you think those five will cut it?" Tessa's father said, thinking of the Bellamy boys, the Dupont twins and Abigail tied up and awaiting collection by the Skitters.

"For now," Terry reiterated, before turning around to face those lined up against the wall, his eyes narrowing, signalling Tessa's father to take Ellie over, dumping her in Anna's arms, ignoring the silent plea in the woman's eyes.

"What are you doin'?" Bob cried out stupidly, clutching his niece as the men raised their guns, the stranger staring in horror, realising what Terry was about to do.

"What I should have done a long time ago," Terry said tiredly, the sound of gunshots silencing their screams.


End file.
